KND: Uno
by DC2030
Summary: Sitting at a soda bar counter top, Nigel Uno looks back on events and compares his experiences.


**Well, this is actually the last of my planned one-shots in my series. Many won't understand what is going on in this, but hey, after 34 one shots and 11 ongoing stories, it would be assumed that many would get lost along the way. But hey, read and enjoy.**

* * *

Dull rays of sunlight from the descending sun shot through the stained glass window. The rays of light prominently shined upon a bald teen sitting at the counter of a local soda establishment. He held a glass of root beer in hand, simply letting it stir as he thought on recent events. Not long ago, roughly three or more years ago, the teen left this world, ascending past the setting sun and rising up towards the stars. Not long ago had he returned from his voyage, not long ago had he been sent back to this world.

It wasn't home to him anymore. The world was so foreign, so misguided, unlike anything he'd seen. He'd been to hundreds of worlds, all drastically different from the blue marble Earth. He'd seen pro-kid worlds, pro-adult tyrannical governments, worlds consumed with external wrath, yet none were like Earth. Here, all conflict was set out in front of all, yet they all seemed to just ignore it. That made him mad. He'd seen death during his return, having forced for time to time to take a life. People lost their lives. People, who fought for what they believed in, people who fought just because they could, people who fought simply because it was all that they knew.

Anti-KND posters riddled every corner of every street. Kids were now considered a plague by a percentage of the population. That percentage just so happened to be the world leaders of Earth and just about every other person with authority on this world. The KND had been reduced to scraps, barely able to sustain themselves. Not even the TND was safe, having been infiltrated by corruption, a common occurrence throughout the universe.

There were moments out in the void of space where he considered just slumping against a wall and calling it quits. Those were moments where he saw no end, no victory, a never ending journey filled with anguish. The home he left never had those moments, he never fell over in self-pity, and he just got up and kept going. The world he returned to, however, was ever filled with moments such as these.

He wasn't there when his uncle became President. He was absent when they cut down the tree houses. He wasn't there to prevent the destruction of the Arctic Base. He couldn't stop a self-proclaimed Anarchist from committing heinous acts of violence. He couldn't subdue Chad. He couldn't do anything.

"Nigel." The bald teen turned to find a youth about two years older entering the soda bar.

"Hey." The bald teen, Nigel, turned his attention back to the glass of root beer in his hand.

"You alright?" The youth asked, taking a seat at the counter next to Nigel. "You seem to be…what's the word? Wound? Yeah. You seem wound, Nigel."

"Just thinking." Nigel muttered, not taking his eyes away from the glass of root beer.

"You've been doing that a lot as of late." The youth said, waving to the bartender. "Can I get a glass of Ale?" The Bartender simply nodded, leaving to grab a glass and pour the Ginger Ale. "I'm not going to beat around the bush with you Nigel. What's troubling you?" The teen asked as the Bartender returned with his glass of Ginger Ale.

Nigel's nostrils flared. Finally taking a sip of his root beer, Nigel turned to the teen. "How you figure?" The teen took a swing of his Ginger Ale.

"I know the look." The teen muttered. "That look of contemplation…thinking about events that you had no power over. That angry stare, that self-loathing brow, that curse forming at the tip of your tongue. Yeah…I've been there." The teen took another sip of his Ginger Ale.

"Yeah, you are." Nigel let out a laugh. "How long has it been since one of us just sat at a counter top anyways?"

"I'd say years." The teen smirked. "You know, back in the KND, everyone had a nickname for you."

"I could say the same for you." Nigel took a sip out of his half empty glass.

"People called you 'James Bond', 'Workaholic' was possibly the most common." The youth mused. "I remember Herbie used to call you 'The Bald Crusader' when he got all jolted on caffeine."

"Really? I never knew he thought so highly of me." Nigel said, genuinely surprised.

"Oh yeah." The youth took another sip of his ale. "A lot of people never said anything, but you have no idea how much people respect you."

"Now I know you're kidding." Nigel shook his head in disbelief. "They probably only respected my father's legend."

"No, they didn't respect you for being the son of Numbuh Zero." The youth said in a serious manner. "Even when you came back after failing a mission, you would stand tall, in the face of great adversity you would never back down, when things got too bad you would find hope somewhere. That's what people respected. They respected not some lineage, they respected _you_, Nigel."

Nigel took another sip out of his glass, only to find it empty. "I hear people still do." The teen said as he waved to the bartender. "Another round please." The bartender nodded, bringing him another root beer and ginger ale. "Any chance you feel any less troubled?"

"Somewhat." Nigel said, grabbing the fresh glass of root beer. "You know you're paying for these, right?"

"Of course." The teen took a sip of his ginger ale.

"You know…we've fought a lot of weirdoes in the KND…what ever happened to Potty Mouth?" Nigel asked.

"Oh, yeah, he died." The teen nonchalantly stated.

"No…really?" Nigel said, somewhat disappointed.

"Oh yeah, nasty event." The teen took another sip of his Ale.

"Are you sure?"

"Thoroughly."

"How come none of the good villains ever die?" Nigel frowned.

"Nigel…what exactly are good villains?" The teen raised a brow.

"I guess you're right, Nolan." Nigel raised his glass. "Here's to fighting the good fight."

"A fight worth fighting." The teen raised his glass along with Nigel.

"Amen." Nigel muttered before they both took down the rest of their respective drinks. They sat there at the counter in silence afterwards, their thoughts dwelling on matters past, present and future. "Amen."


End file.
